


Come On Now, Sugar

by leiascully



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-28
Updated: 2007-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey.  I'm going to the mall with Meg.  Apparently we need to do some girly bonding."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come On Now, Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Late S1  
> A/N: Title is from "We Used To Be Friends" by The Dandy Warhols, natch. Thanks to [**vitawash24**](http://vitawash24.livejournal.com/) and [**luxemburger**](http://luxemburger.livejournal.com/) for the readthroughs. My first VMars fic!   
> Disclaimer: _Veronica Mars_ and all related characters are the property of Rob Thomas and Deedle Dee Productions. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.

"Veronica! Wait up!"

I turned around, preparing the special edition smile I keep for clients, but it was Meg, so I toned down the wattage and upped the warmth. "Hey, Meg. What's up?" Things have been chilly between us since Duncan pulled his disappearing act. Ever the prodigal son these days. Who am I kidding, things have been chilly between us ever since I got that fax from Manny at Manny's Flower Hut. I never claimed not to have issues.

"I was going to the mall," she said, "do you want to come? We'll skip English - we've got that sub you hate today, and I know you're tired of _Heart of Darkness_."

"I don't know," I stalled, cycling through excuses. She's got me on the class thing; I was half-tempted to skip already. Not broke, not business, not boys. Ah, homework, the old standby. "I've got that essay due for History on Monday."

"Oh, come on," she said, "you've got the whole weekend. This can be our bonding time. Things have been weird lately and retail therapy cures everything."

Sometimes I forget that Meg has a brain. She was looking at me with a shrewd kind of expression, the kind you can't refuse. "Okay," I said. "I guess a girl's got to procrastinate once in a while. Meet you in the food court?"

"Perfect!" She beamed and walked off, her ponytail swinging. Oh, Meg. I know she was the only 09er girl to stick by me through the year of hell following Lilly's death, but is there a point at which the awkward quotient is just too high and you should give up? If so, I'd probably have zero friends instead of the five or so who keep calling; I should probably be grateful, but girl time has never been my strong suit. A few hours talking frills and fit with Meg won't kill me, it will make me stronger.

Hopefully.

I put the top down on the LeBaron for the drive out to the mall and called Logan. "Hey. I'm going to the mall with Meg. Apparently we need to do some girly bonding."

"Just make sure you get the cuffs with padding. Don't want to injure your wrists."

"Bond_ing_, not bond_age_."

"I wasn't going to judge," he said. "I just wanted to watch."

"I bet you did."

"You're still all mine tonight?" he said in that sexy mumble.

"Unless I get tied up with Meg," I said. "You know, you should probably be paying attention in class."

"It's just physics," he said dismissively. "I learn a lot more about laws of motion from you than I do from Professor Spitbubbles. Half the class is asleep and he's still ranting on about somebody's cat."

"Plan to do a lot of studying tonight," I purred, wondering when I became that girl but not hating it. Not hating it at all.

"Oooh," he said. I grinned and hung up, turning the radio up extra loud. God, I love new relationships, when all you want to do is spend all your time getting underneath the other person's clothes. And it was definitely worth getting under his. I got lost in a reverie about the way his abs flex when I kiss that place on his hip and almost missed the exit for the mall. How to explain that one? "Gee, Meg, sorry I was late, but I was just thinking about how great it is to make out with Logan." That would go over like a lead balloon. Especially since it's still a secret.

I found Meg in the food court sipping a low-fat strawberry smoothie from the smoothie place. "Hey!" she said brightly. "I was wondering if you ditched me."

"Traffic," I said. "Looks like half the town's dodging out on Joseph Conrad today."

She giggled. "Come on."

I stuck my hands in my pockets and followed her. "So what's on the program today? Shoes? Jeans? That killer new album?"

"Victoria's Secret," she said.

"Whoa," I said and tried to backpedal. "Isn't that more of a...personal thing?"

"You haven't had a lot of girlfriends recently, have you, V?" she said, smirking. "You can't tell me you and Lilly never went underwear shopping together."

"That was mostly just Lilly prancing around in as little as possible," I said, smiling a little at the memory of Lilly wreaking havoc in her smalls. "I wasn't expected to _do_ anything. Or _wear_ anything."

"Well, you're not going home without something completely scandalous," she said, and grabbed my wrist.

"Can't I even get something to drink?" I pleaded. Weak, but any excuse in a panic. She just handed me her smoothie. Nice. I sighed a little and sipped at it while she dragged me past what seemed like a thousand stores selling things I would be more interested in buying than lacy underwear. Though Logan would probably appreciate it. I decided to concentrate on that angle. I could almost see his eyes lighting up: my usual underwear choices were more practical than alluring. I could see the big lighted windows getting closer and closer. I took one last desperate sip of the smoothie, tasting Meg's lip gloss on the straw - vanilla, natch - and then we plunged into a glare of lace and satin in patterns so bright I wanted to shield my eyes. I stood around while Meg sorted through racks, occasionally paging through a rack of bras when she glanced over at me with an encouraging smile. After fifteen moments or so, the charade wore thin, and she rolled her eyes.

"What size are you?"

"Uh..." I said eloquently. She laughed and pushed an armful of hangers and fabric into my arms.

"Go try things on," she said, shoving me towards the dressing room. "If they don't fit, you can get measured."

In the little cubicle, I untangled the slippery scraps of lace and sighed. Okay, Mars, focus. Things have been awkward with Meg, but maybe this will make it better. It's not as if I can afford to lose any friends. I can handle this girly-girly stuff. Better than the humiliation of having some stranger wrap a tape measure around my breasts. I wriggled out of my skirt and top and dropped my own, plain, functional bra on top of my shirt. So long, cotton. Hello, satin and padding. What was this, a corset? A teddy? You'd think a private dick would have more descriptive words for lingerie at her disposal - God knew I'd seen enough of it through hotel windows. Whatever it was, it looked complicated. I had barely strapped myself into the thing (mostly lace and ribbon, like some kind of see through tank top with a push up bra built into the top - a curious contraption with little dangly straps at the thighs) before there was a tap at the door and Meg burst in.

"I thought I locked that," I said, trying for the Venus DeMilo one-arm-over-the-breasts-one-at-the-thighs pose.

"Relax, Veronica," she said. "I'm not going to maul you. I've got those too. Loosen up, let me see how it looks."

Reluctantly I moved my arms away and stood there in my heels, my underwear, and the ridiculous lingerie. "I don't even understand this thing, Meg. Why does it have extra straps?"

"Those are garters," she said. "For stockings." She had moved forward and her fingers were suddenly patting around my hips and my ribs, adjusting here and there. I tried not to jump when she started heaving around the wires of the bra and shifting my breasts.

"Getting a little fresh there," I said, trying to make a joke.

"Lighten up," she said. "You were on pep squad. You didn't used to care when we all fixed each other up. I just want to make sure it looks right before you decide not to buy it."

"I might buy it!" I protested.

"Come on, Veronica," she said, her mouth in a crooked smile. "You've been waiting for the right moment to bolt ever since I found you at school. Don't play games with me."

"Sure," I said, a little taken aback. "Sorry."

Her hands had slid down to rest on my hips. Her palms were warm. "Look in the mirror," she said softly.

I turned slightly and her hand shifted to my back as the other slipped down to her side. Not bad, I said silently to my reflection. My hair was mussed from the drive and my cheeks were all flushed from the embarrassment of being in my underwear in front of someone I wasn't even dating - who was, in fact, dating my only significant ex - and my lips were pink and glossy from where I'd licked smoothie out of the corners of my mouth, and I looked like a girl who'd just untangled herself from a makeout session instead of a girl who'd just untangled a bunch of crazy undergarments.

"Look at you, Veronica Mars," Meg said. "All dolled up and nowhere to go."

"It's like Total Eclipse of the Heart all over again," I joked. "Remember that dress you put me in?"

"Hmm," said Meg. "You know, I think I do."

I turned to her. "This is actually kind of fun. Thanks for making me come. I know I'm not easy to be friends with."

"You have your charms," she said, still with that patient sweet Meg expression.

"Look," I said abruptly, "about Duncan..."

"V, this isn't about Duncan," she said, and her face seemed very, very close. "This isn't about anyone but you and me."

There she was, Meg Manning, the easiest mark at Neptune High, but there was something in her eyes that made me realize that I was the one who'd been played this time. Way to suss that out, Mars, and you call yourself a private dick. Her hand was still on my back and suddenly it seemed very hot in the little dressing room. I hoped Meg had locked the door.

"Oh," I said.

"Finally get there?" she asked, with a positively wicked smile curving her lips.

"I think so," I said cautiously. "Meg, I..."

She kissed me. Not the most original method of shutting me up, but one that works pretty well most of the time. And Meg, Meg was good. Better than Duncan, however disloyal that was. All of my excuses about how I wasn't that kind of girl were dissolving into the heady half-intoxicated state that really good kisses bring on. Her tongue was doing something I didn't even know that tongues could do, and the hand that had been on my back was now on my ass, squeezing gently, and her other hand was pushing into my hair. Good lord, it felt good. No wonder all those cheating spouses chose vaguely public locations for their tawdry sex; the threat of getting caught was tantalizing. And we weren't even doing anything that incriminating yet, just two girls trying on scandalous underwear and happening to kiss. Deeply. Somewhat frantically.

I turned off my internal monologue and just let go. Kissing, hot and wet, Meg's cheekbones under my palms. Meg's breasts heaving against mine. Meg's hand was feeling its way down over my ass to the inside of my thigh, and I jumped.

"Maybe we shouldn't..."

"It's not as if you're not going to buy it now, V," she smirked. "Look how hot you are." I glanced in the mirror again. If I'd looked sassy before, I looked positively wanton now. I looked like the kind of girl who wouldn't get caught making out in a public dressing room because she knew what she was doing. It was a nice escape from the ordinary Veronica with the butch boots and the hairstyle predicated on what would go best under a hat in case I had to do surveillance. Yeah, I was going to buy the thing. I'd had a good couple of weeks of sleuthing, I could afford it. It would be nice to recapture this feeling every once in a while. And Logan would probably enjoy it, his practical girl in pointless ribbons.

Logan.

Shit.

"Meg, I can't. Or I can, I want to, but I shouldn't."

"It's okay," she said, pressing her open mouth to my neck so that I shivered. "It doesn't count."

"It doesn't count?" My voice was higher and breathier than I remembered, but then, I didn't usually have the point of Meg's tongue tracing its way down my cleavage.

"It doesn't count," she said reassuringly, her breath hot on my stomach through the fabric. "It's just messing around." She was on her knees now in front of me, her fingers working up my inner thighs. Holy Mother of God. Was this how Meg got such a high score on the purity test? Things that didn't count? She sure as hell didn't seem like a beginner. I was pretty sure Logan would think this counted, but by then Meg's fingers were pushing aside my (functional, cotton) underwear and her tongue was flicking along places I'd only heard tongues could go, and it was all I could do to stand up. My fingers scrabbled at the top of her head, finally curling around her ponytail. Part of me wanted to push her away, thinking of the hurt on Logan's face. A bigger part of me wanted to rock my hips against her mouth. I felt feverish, slightly desperate, incredibly sexy. I have understood your secret, Victoria, and it is the conniving psychology of the effect of tight satin on one's self-esteem.

"I..." I said, almost protesting, wanting to say something, trying to keep quiet about Logan. But we weren't telling, I'd promised, and my brain had kind of stopped forming words anyway. I was just trying not to whimper. There were little sparkles at the edges of my vision and my knees were trembling. She paused.

"Everything okay?" she murmured against my thigh, her eyes turned up to me. I had to crane my head to see her face around my propped-up breasts. Her mouth was wet. She licked her lips.

"Please," I gasped. "Meg, don't stop." And there it was, biology over fidelity. Sorry, Logan, but I'm caught between an orgasm and a hard place, and if I try to walk out of here on legs that don't work, it'll be even more obvious that something's up. Meg smiled and her tongue flickered out again, but this time her fingers were there too, reaching inside me, and I almost yelped. God, it was amazing. No drugs, no shame this time, just overwhelming, mind-altering pleasure. No wonder Lilly had slept around, if sex with guys felt even half this good. I sure couldn't remember.

Meg twisted her fingers and the whole store seemed to contract to a single point and explode around me. My knees gave out and I toppled backwards: fortunately there was a wall to slide down and a bench to land on, and only my own clothes sticky with the moisture from between my thighs. Meg sat back on her haunches, looking pleased with herself, licking her fingers and then wiping them fastidiously on a tissue she pulled out of her purse. I sat there trying to catch my breath, the corset thing suddenly feeling too tight.

"Can you help me?" I gestured to the back of the thing. "My hands are shaking too much."

She laughed and reached around me, leaning down so that my face was against her breasts. I pillowed my cheek on her chest for a moment and sighed as her hot damp fingers undid the tiny hooks at the back and she helped me shrug out of the corset. She cupped my bare breasts in her hands and rubbed her thumbs them before she patted my shoulder and stepped back. I picked up one of the other bras at random and tried it on, fumbling with the front clasp. The lace scraped over my super-sensitive nipples and I hissed through my teeth. Meg was reapplying her lipgloss in the mirror. She winked at me.

"That one looks good."

"Practicality to the wind, huh? At least it's basic black." I grinned at her. It was weird, having just done that with her, to have her acting like everything was normal.

"Get the matching underwear and I think we'll call that a day. You were good for your first time," she said, pouting at her reflection. I turned away to put on my normal bra and my clothes. It was ridiculous to be embarrassed in front of her now, but I was blushing like a fool. "Here." She handed me a hairbrush. "You might want this."

I straightened my shirt and ran the brush through my hair, pulling it up into a quick ponytail. Not perfect, but better. Less of a bedroom look, anyway. I gathered up the things I wanted and hung the rest on the hooks on the wall. Meg smiled at me.

"Ready?"

"Aren't you getting anything?"

"I left it up at the desk," she said brightly, tucking the brush back into her purse as I handed it to her and pulling out a pack of gum. "Gum?"

I took a piece: vanilla mint, the kind that's squishy in the middle. It reminded me of the lipgloss on the straw, which reminded me of Meg's mouth, which reminded me of kissing Meg, and my face was up in flames again. I cleared my throat against the fake-sugar sweetness of the gum and my own embarrassment. "Shall we go?"

We checked out and got our purchases all bundled up in pink tissue paper in the distinctive bag that I was going to have to hide and/or burn once I got home. Dad's tolerant, but I think he wouldn't really appreciate knowing that I've been shopping for underwear that's pretty much destined to be showcased.

"Hey," I said awkwardly when we got to the food court. "You want to get something to eat?" It didn't seem like we ought to just leave things there, with the kissing, and the whatever it was that did or didn't count. I felt like I was leaving without making breakfast in the morning. I wasn't going to be the jackass. But she just smiled brightly at me and checked her watch.

"I really ought to be getting home, Veronica, but it was so sweet of you to come shopping with me. I know it's not your favorite thing."

"No problem," I said, dazed. I could still feel my pulse beating fast under my collarbone. "I'll see you Monday."

She hugged me in that quick, showy, rich girl way and wiggled her fingers at me as she left. I spit out my gum, grabbed a bubble tea from the soba place, and drove home slowly, chewing on the tapioca pearls. I had a date with Logan and I couldn't just pretend nothing had happened. I'd have to tell him.

Fortunately, Dad wasn't home when I got there, so I hid the bag in the back of the closet, threw my new purchases in the sink with some Woolite, and hung them over the fan in the bathroom. I took Backup for a quick run and then jumped in the shower. The hot water was working, at least. I scrubbed myself down slowly, my skin still tingling even though it was only my own fingers. The slickness between my thighs was hard to rinse away. I kept thinking of Meg and had to turn the water all the way to cold to blast the sexy haze out of my head. Shivering, I jumped out of the tub and toweled off. My lacy underwear was dry and I climbed into it. The bra lifted my breasts up just the right amount and the boy-cut bottoms cupped my ass like a pair of hands. Funny how Meg had gotten exactly the right size. I wondered how long she'd been planning this. I wrapped up in my bathrobe and went back to my room, dragging on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, relishing the contrast between my everyday clothes and my special occasion underthings. Dad would never know his meatloaf-cooking daughter had on a set of skivvies that would hopefully render even a bad boy speechless. The good thing about secret relationships was you never had to dress up for dates. I did a little dance step between the oven and the counter. Except for the guilt, it was going to be a good night.

Dinner was a little perfunctory. Dad was going out on surveillance, so I just watched tv with Backup and took notes for my history paper until Logan called.

"Hey, babe. I'm outside. You ready to rumble?"

"You didn't tell me there'd be rumbling involved," I teased. "Should I dress up?"

"You're probably in a sexy little t-shirt, and here I am in my tux and tails," he grumbled. "Just get out here. I miss you."

"Be right there," I promised, patted Backup, and ran out the door with my bag.

"Hey, you," Logan said as I climbed into the XTerra. I hardly got a breath in before he was kissing me, and as always, I was melting into him. God, he was good at what he did. I tried not to think of all the practice he'd had. Then again, who was I to talk?

"So how was the rest of your day, my little delinquent?" he asked, touching my face and then putting the car into gear.

"Oh," I said, buckling my seatbelt. "You know. Gorgeous day, convertible car, shopping with the girl. Oh, and I made out with Meg in the dressing room of Victoria's Secret."

He laughed. "Nice. I didn't know it was story time. What did you buy at the mall? New jeans?" He rubbed his hand up and down my leg and steered with the other.

"I'm serious, Logan."

"As if you would ever go into Victoria's Secret." He stopped at a stoplight and leaned over to kiss me. I never could resist him.

"Scout's honor," I said. "I kissed Meg in the dressing room of Victoria's Secret. Well, she started it. But I let her. And then I let her do...other things."

"Meg Manning? You're pulling my leg."

"I am absolutely not," I said, touching his arm. "Would this face lie to you?"

"Sweetie," he said, pulling into a parking space near the beach. "You're a private eye. You lie to people's faces for a living. Why should I believe a word you say?"

I tugged up my shirt. "Look. Vicky's."

He whistled. "I didn't know it was my birthday." His eyes were hungry as he looked at my breasts, and he ran his thumb over the edge of the lace. "Very nice."

"I'm telling you the truth, Logan, because of my horribly guilty conscience. I made out with Meg Manning in a dressing room today."

He looked at me for a long moment, distracted away from my chest. "Really truly?"

I nodded.

He bit his lip and then grinned. "That's pretty hot, V."

"I feel horrible," I almost wailed.

"Was she that bad? I mean, I guess she hasn't had a lot of practice."

"You might be surprised," I said. "She wasn't bad at all. I think she's done a lot of things with girls. She said it didn't count. I wanted to stop, but I didn't want to tell her about you, and then it was...really good." My voice was small. "You don't hate me?"

He touched my hair, stroking from my forehead to my ear. "You are unbelievable," he murmured. "I look away for a couple of hours and you get yourself seduced by the most strait-laced girl in school." He kissed the tip of my nose. "Of course I don't hate you. You couldn't tell her." His hands had migrated to my breasts, and he was squeezing them gently.

"I thought you'd be mad," I said, inhaling quickly as his thumb skated over my nipple and his lips followed it.

"Who am I to stop you if you're feeling experimental?" he asked my cleavage, his fingers popping open the button on my jeans. "Besides, the thought of you with another girl is pretty much incredibly hot." He kissed my stomach and my hips, using his teeth until I started to squirm.

"Backseat," I said, and he tumbled through the gap, dragging me on top of him. I kissed him long and hard, nipping at his lip until he started to rock under me, relishing the feel of his long hot body under mine. "You're really not mad?"

He propped his head on the door and looked at me. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous, but sex is hard to say no to. Just don't make it a regular thing, huh? I like having you all to myself." He rolled over quickly and pinned me, trapping my wrists over my head. "Besides, now I have a good threshold of comparison." He kissed my ear and down the side of my neck until my head tipped back and I gasped. I sat up halfway and he cradled me with one arm and pulled my t-shirt off with the other.

"Did she kiss you like this?" he murmured, nipping a path down my collarbones. "Like this?"

"Lower," I managed, and his hot mouth came down over my breast. I moaned involuntarily as his tongue teased my nipple through the lace.

"Mmm, I like it when you go shopping." He opened the clasp on my bra and rubbed his cheek over my breasts. His skin was rough with evening stubble and my nipples burned, but in a good way. He soothed them with a swirl of his tongue. "Like this?"

"Lower."

He nuzzled his way down my stomach, licking along the edge of my jeans, sucking at my hipbone until I squeaked. "Lower?"

"Mmmm," I said. The car already felt like a dream. I was clutching the handle of the door, trying not to squeal as he rucked down my jeans.

"Oooh, they match," he said. I could feel his erection against my knee. "For me, V? You shouldn't have."

"I wanted to," I said, and looked him straight in the eye. Logan, you matter, I wanted to say, but I think he got it. He crawled back up and kissed me for a long time, his fingers stroking me under my jeans until I could feel the wetness soaking my new underwear. I grabbed onto his ears, trying to keep the world steady. He laughed into my mouth and I shifted under him, rubbing my thigh against his hard-on.

"Enough about me," he said. "Let's talk about you." He rubbed his fingers all along the damp lace between my legs and I started to shiver.

"Oh, God," I said, the universe outside me and Logan and the XTerra suddenly completely unimportant.

"Come on, V, stay with me," he said, and bit my earlobe. His fingertips were nudging almost inside of me but not quite, his thumb rubbing at the hot nub just under the seam of my panties, so that the friction and the pressure were almost unbearable. "Come on, baby."

I was whimpering, not even hearing myself, and then his fingers pressed _just right_ and my hips were bucking under him. He pressed down against me and kissed me desperately; I threw my arms around his neck and held him tight.

"It's okay," he said, "it's okay," and kissed my cheekbones, my eyelids. He was stroking my hair again with his free hand, and I opened my eyes (when had I closed them?) and looked up into his sweet face. "Good?"

"Mmmm," I said, "thank you."

"Better than Meg?" he asked slyly, and I quirked up my lips and looked off to the side.

"Meg used her tongue."

"Oho," he said softly. "Well, I guess I'd better keep up with the Joneses. Or the Mannings, as it were." He slid down my body and scrunched himself against the opposite door, easing my jeans down my hips. I wriggled backwards to help him. He sat up and looked at me for a long moment.

"Veronica Mars, you are amazing," he said, his eyes shining in the gleam from the streetlight. My eyes prickled.

"Logan, I'm sorry I kissed somebody else."

"Hey," he said. "Everybody gets one."

"If that were true, you'd still be with Lilly," I said.

"Nah," he said, turning away and smiling. "Lilly had too many others. I would have been here."

My breath caught in my throat and he bent down and kissed my hipbone again, using his teeth until I was just whimpering and clutching at the seat. He pressed his lips to the hem of my underwear, sucking at my skin. Then his tongue flicked out lower and I could feel the roughness through my underwear right at the most sensitive place.

"Can't get these off," he growled, tugging at my jeans.

"Working fine so far," I said, panting between the words, and he twisted his fingers in under the lace, reaching inside me. His fingers were rough and pointed in all the right ways. "Oh, holy God." He _pressed_ somewhere and I almost shrieked, my back arching so hard that I knocked into Logan's chin and he leaned hard on my hip. He leaned over the front seat and twisted the key so that he could turn on the a/c, then wrestled me around until I was lying on his chest. I was gulping for air, my mouth dry. He pulled my hand up and kissed my fingers.

"As good as Meg?" he asked, his voice full of laughter.

"Mmmm," I said. "Ten out of ten for the boy from the right side of the tracks. Just don't tell me where you learned all those moves."

"At the tender knees of the pep squad, just like Meg," he joked, and I punched him in the chest.

"Hey," he said quietly. "I'm glad it's you."

"I'm glad it's you too," I said, and kissed him. "Anything I can do for you?"

He glanced down with a wry smile. "You pretty much took care of that by proxy."

I winced. "Well, maybe next time."

"I don't mind taking it slow," he said, rubbing my back. "Don't feel bad. If you can get me off without even touching me, that's pretty hot. I can deal with a little stickiness."

"We could go back to my place," I offered. "Take a shower. Dad's out on surveillance all night. As long as you leave before, say, eight?" I let my voice trail off invitingly.

"Will there be cuddling?" he asked, smirking.

"You bet your ass," I said.

"Then I'm there," he said, and kissed me.


End file.
